


Carwash

by SpookshowBabyx



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-22
Updated: 2014-03-22
Packaged: 2018-01-16 14:29:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1350814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpookshowBabyx/pseuds/SpookshowBabyx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In her efforts to find incriminating material to help in her struggle to get rid of Emma, Regina finds herself in possession of a rather interesting set of images that leave her wondering about her feelings towards the blonde. Things don't get any easier when Emma finds out and makes a move.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 01

"What did you find out?"

"Well, to be honest, she's not an easy woman to track down... She ran into some trouble with the law at seventeen, but the records are sealed up pretty tight..."

"... So you found nothing...?"

Regina muses silkily as she glares at the slippery reporter. Her eyes fall upon the slim folder he holds in his hand and she plucks it away from him deftly as he opens his mouth to form some pitiful excuse.

"No, not  _nothing_... I was able to contact one Katelyn Matthews; Miss Swan's cellmate when incarcerated. I spoke to her over the phone and explained I was a local reporter in Emma's current hometown and wanted to do a report on the young woman... I left out my reasoning for fear of questions- simply stating I was trying to build up a picture of her past- but it would appear Miss Matthews is rather more forthcoming than our dear Emma ... Perhaps the opportunity to be quoted in print? Who knows. She emailed me across a collection of documents- She and Emma moved in together for a couple of months once Miss Swan finished serving her time- which I've printed off as you can see... I have yet to look through them myself, it was merely a PDF file I ran to print, but anything of use to you, will be in there..."

Raising an eyebrow, the brunette flicks distractedly through the thin black folder before glancing back up irritably.

"Yes. Well. That will be all, Sydney."

"Very well... I... I hope you find what you're looking for..."

"As do I... But I doubt it."

* * *

" _...I hope you find what you're looking for..."_

"And what exactly  _is_  it you're looking for?"

The Mayor mutters to herself under her breath. Truth be told, she has no idea, but she refuses to believe that one so caustic as the blonde could live a life free from any number of shameful events and altercations. Still, it is most  _vexing_  to her that the circumstances of Emma's incarceration are under proverbial lock and key, as surely the reasoning behind her predicament would provide perfect smoke to add to the fire she plans to ignite.

As it is, she must search for another stain on the younger woman's already tarnished reputation.

Whatever it is. It doesn't matter. She just wants the bitch gone.

Settling down behind her desk, she flips open the slim folder Sydney provided, and runs a finger pensively over her full lips as she scans the first page.

_Dear Mr Glass._

_I hope this finds you well. As requested, I put together some stuff about Emma. I mentioned this on the phone to you, but she and I were never actually all that close, so there isn't really much to tell... I must say I am surprised you are looking to write about her? Emma always seemed the private sort, if you know what I mean._

_I guess people change._

_I managed to find some letters and photos from our time living in Tallahassee, which I have attached as a PDF file to the email. Sorry it's not much- Emma always preferred the other side of the lens._

_Please do let me know if any of this gets published. It'd be cool to receive a copy. (My own little piece of the fame! Ha ha!)_

_Regards,_

_Katelyn._

"...Weren't actually all that close... Now why doesn't  _that_  surprise me?"

The brunette muses aloud as she flips over the neat black font of the email to reveal several scanned letters and a series of photographs. She finds she has to squint in order to decipher the messy scrawl of the blonde's handwriting, despite Katelyn having blown the scribbles up to fill the page. She is able to make out enough to discern that the younger woman had drawn up a do-it-yourself document to act as a written agreement to her side of staying with her ex-cellmate; signing her name spikily at the bottom to assure her new housemate- and, given the nature of the paperwork, the owner of the residence- the right to kick her out should she feel the need.

Regina finds herself unsurprised that the blonde would put her trust in such a risky document rather than take any sort of responsibility of her own.

Deeming the rest of the scrawled nonsense to be useless she frowns, aware that it is much less likely she will find the sort of incrimination she needs within the images. She almost opens her mouth to mutter as to the idiocy of supplying photographs at _all_ , but as her eyes fall on the first of the printer-ravaged pictures she finds herself intrigued.

Katelyn has supplied Sydney with three photographs all together, including a little typed description beneath each of them pertaining to when and where the image took place. The first is a slightly shaky picture taken in a rather stark little room, labelled 'Moving day, Tallahassee, '03'. Emma stands with one hand on her hip and a paintbrush held loosely in the other as she gives the camera a disapproving glance. Her hair is long, but rather ratty, and her face is bare but tanned; her cheeks ever so slightly haggard despite her youth in the image. The brunette ponders on how many days would have passed between the young woman leaving the correctional facility and this image.

She imagines not very many.

The second picture causes the Mayor to frown, as the blonde winks back up at her theatrically, her slim fingers holding up several ketchup-tipped french fries as a paper crown rests hatefully upon her curls which appear in much better condition having been snipped back so that they feather down to graze her shoulders. Regina is unsure exactly what 'BK' stands for, but she dislikes the thought of the younger woman wearing  _any_  sort of crown, regardless of the initials emblazoned across it. Cardboard or not. The small blurb to the image simply reads 'August 23rd (My birthday), Emma BK, '03'.

Turning to the last image, the brunette stills as her eyes widen with curiosity. This final picture has been printed off on its own separate page, and she is unsure if this is the reason for its larger size or whether the computer is at fault. Either way, she finds herself accosted with an A4 image of the blonde as she stands in a very peculiar manner beside a soapsud encrusted car. She has never traveled away from the small, sleepy town over which she presides, but she has seen enough of the world through television and in books to know that it is rather unusual for one to perform an activity such as washing a car in the attire the younger woman wears in the last image.

The blonde's tight physique-  _unfairly_  tight, as this is surely only a good several months after the birth of her son- glistens wetly, bright white bubbles flecking her bare thighs, as she smiles back from the page wearing nothing but a yellow bikini top and washed out denim shorts that barely provide the coverage of underwear. Her hair is once more long and golden, offset prettily by a deep Florida tan, and her lips are pulled back in a flash of white teeth which seems alarmingly predatory.

And just a little sexual.

Frowning, Regina sits back in her chair as her eyes continue to linger on the curious image of the woman she has come to despise in just a few short weeks.

Despise... Yet look forward to her predictable insolence and sarcasm with a kind of sadistic anticipation.

The expression Emma pulls in the image lying on the desk reminds the brunette of the fiery look the younger woman had given her after taking a chainsaw to her apple tree, and the fact that such a recollection stirs within her an inexplicable dark excitement causes the Mayor's brow to furrow as she subconsciously wets her lips, her dark eyes remaining trained on the scantily clad young blonde.

'Helping out at the Sorority car-wash for fun! Panama City, '04'.

Denim shorts resting ridiculously low on sharp hips, showing off the lean muscle tapering deliciously south. A light spattering of dark freckles dappling shoulders, chest and stomach. Painted red lips and sharp white teeth. Tousled blonde tresses bleached sensationally white by the sun. Green eyes glittering and lashes dark.

"How inappropriate."

Regina starts at the sounds of her own voice, a little disconcerted to say the least by the complex surge of emotions the image before her has conjured. She is surprised by the heat that flushes her cheeks, and its sweet cousin playing dangerously somewhere much further south. She is not so stubborn so as to refuse the notion that the way the younger woman's slim frame is clad so minimally might be the cause for such a reaction- after all, she has always found lust in beauty- but she is simply disconcerted to harbor any sort of fancies for the hateful young blonde at  _all_.

_Hateful, but unnervingly desirable._

She sighs, as it isn't the first time she's thought such things in regards to Storybrooke's newcomer. Upon meeting her the night she had brought Henry back from Boston, she had found Emma to be irritatingly attractive. The sort of attractive that had made her wish for the first time in years for her power back; itching to force and manipulate those slim white fingers and pretty pink lips to do her bidding. Finding her later then, glaring haughtily from behind metal bars much like a caged lioness, hadn't helped much either.

Neither had the fact the ridiculous woman seemed to have had no qualms about answering the door in her mother-loving  _underwear._

Scant scarlet offsetting pale thighs.

Rolling her eyes, the brunette pushes the image away from her irritably, pursing her lips primly as she becomes aware of the feeling of damp silk between her legs.

She rises briskly, her abdomen warm with a familiar ache, and she scolds her body for its mutinous reactions. Moving gracefully through the room on sharp black stilettos, she slips through the door and into a grand en-suite bathroom, eyes flickering as the lock clicks metalically shut behind her. Studying herself in the ornate, gold-framed mirror that hangs above the sink, she slips out of her sinfully tight pencil skirt slowly; allowing the rich fabric to fall to the white tiles of the floor.

"This is ridiculous."

She hisses, her dark eyes flickering to her reflected lips as she speaks, her cheeks rouged prettily and her chest flushed beneath her shirt. She imagines her reaction is as much pent up frustration with the blonde as it is attraction, but the kittenish expression gracing Emma's fine features in that curious image-  _carwash.._.- have elicited a pure and undeniable lust she is willing to go with. She is just able to make out the slightly darker silk that blemishes her ivory lingerie from her wetness, and plucks the incriminating wisp of fabric swiftly away, allowing it to flutter to the floor between her legs. Her slim fingers find her heat and she closes her eyes as they slip sweetly between silken folds.

* * *

"Regina?"

Emma doesn't bother waiting for an answer as she lets herself into the brunette's office, deeming the sharp rap of her knuckles against heavy wood to be more than sufficient. She huffs irritably when she finds the room to be empty, aching to give the darker woman a piece of her mind after finding her car clamped yet again.

_Honestly, for someone claiming she wants me the hell out, she's making it pretty damn hard..._

She recognizes her current predicament as yet another curious aspect to the little games the Mayor seems hell-bent on playing, and as much as she may bitch and moan, there is something to the cunning spite of it all that makes her heart beat just that little bit faster with inexplicable excitement.

Growling at the obvious fact she stands alone in the grandiose office, she turns to leave before her eyes flicker to the sheets of paper that litter the desk. She frowns, padding over slowly as incredulous recognition dawns on her.

She studies the large photograph which lies forlorn on the Mayor's desk for what seems like a decidedly long time, trying to work out what in the hell the brunette would want with such an image, and how she even  _came_  by it in the _first_  place. Flicking through the rest of the documents, she rolls her eyes, fury settling in on her swiftly as she understands what the darker woman is up to.

"You fucking  _bitch_..."

She hisses angrily, her cheeks pinkening as she bites her lip and tries to decide what to do.

A low moan from behind the heavy door lining the far wall has her glancing up, startled, and she frowns as she stalks a little closer. Listening in for just a little longer, her eyes widen as comprehension dawns on her. Turning tail, she all but sprints from the room, trying both to figure out and repress what she's just encountered.

By the time she reaches her car waiting patiently outside, a slow smile has found her lips as her eyes glitter dangerously.

"Game on."


	2. Chapter 02

"Graham, I need you to... What... You?"

Regina comes to a halt at the threshold to the Station's office, her dark eyes falling upon the blonde in confusion as the latter sits cross-legged in one of the time-weary chairs, working her way through an almond pastry. She purses her lips as the younger woman raises an eyebrow, lifting her sugar-dusted fingers to her mouth and licking them slowly clean. Emma seems to take an absurdly long time with her meticulous removal of icing- sucking her index finger delicately between her lips as her eyes widen innocently- before finally lowering her hand and cocking her head to the side.

"Can I help you, Regina?"

"...What are you doing here?"

"Well, as I haven't seen the  _Mayor_ around for the last few days, I came to ask the Sheriff to remove the clamp on my car."

"You were parked illegally."

"No I wasn't... It doesn't matter though. Graham was very understanding."

"... Was he now? And where  _is_  the good Sheriff, dear?"

The blonde shrugs, green eyes roaming the deliciously tight pencil skirt the Mayor wears appreciatively.

"I think he's getting some bits and pieces out of his car. I'm not sure."

"Well, why are you sticking around if he's already shown pity on you for your idiotic parking?"

"... Afternoon snack?"

The brunette's breath catches in her throat as the younger woman's tongue flickers briefly into view and dusky lashes cast shadow over cheeks which dimple mischievously. Rolling her eyes and running her fingers briskly through her hair, she turns towards the door as heavy footsteps approach from the hallway.

"Madame Mayor, what can I-"

"-Sheriff. Since when have you been running an open office where pretty much anybody can just sit around and...  _Distract_  you from your work?"

Graham looks uneasily from the irate brunette over to Emma, who shrugs indifferently from her seat opposite his desk.

"We were just talking, Regina..."

"Don't you have better things to do?"

"Look... She just-"

"-Oh save it! I know what she 'just', she-"

Regina's angry growl tapers off as the blonde pushes herself up from her seat and stalks past her towards the door.

"I don't have to listen to this."

"Emma, wait, come on..."

Graham sighs, watching as the younger woman disappears from view before turning back to the Mayor with a frown.

"What the hell  _is_  it with you two? She wasn't doing anything  _wrong_  and still you go after her like a dog after a bone."

"The fact that that woman is still hanging about town when she has no business being here, stirring up things between my son and I is what she's done  _wrong_ , Sheriff. Just  _one_ of the things she's done wrong!"

Regina huffs, Graham's incredulous tone dampening the small victory she feels in making the blonde storm out. Pulling herself together and calming herself down, she takes the seat recently vacated by the younger woman and regards the Sheriff with a coy smile. Sighing, Graham leans back in his chair and studies her with open curiosity.

"What did you want, anyway?"

"... I was wondering what your plans were later?"

The brunette raises an eyebrow in question, her full lips painted scarlet and wanting. She doubts that he is surprised to see her; she has come to him nightly for the last three days... Since finding herself in possession of that dratted picture.

She has found herself uncomfortably aroused, avoiding any contact with the blonde while she strives to corral her emotions back into place. She _hates_  that Emma elicits such a strong lust from her, and- what with the way the younger woman had gone about cleaning herself off from her pastry- she can't help but feel the blonde is somehow entirely-  _consciously_ \- at fault.

_Such an idea is, of course, preposterous..._

"I imagine I'll be checking in on you to make sure all is well?"

The Sheriff grins, causing the brunette to smirk.

"Just remember to use the side door."

With that, she rises from her seat, fluffing her silky locks fussily before turning for the door with a smile. Pulling her coat closer to her slim frame, she struts down the long hallway and out into the winter sun to the steady beat of her stilettos.

Her good mood falters as she approaches her car, eyes narrowing and mouth falling comically open in a bizarre concoction of disbelief and rage.

" _What_..."

Her gaze remains fixed on her Mercedes for a long time; as though glaring at her car in such a way will erase the thick mud and grime that coats the bonnet. Finally, a flash of yellow to her side catches her attention and she glances over to spot a large, dirt-fouled bucket lying tipped and forlorn on the grass. She recognizes it as the pail that usually sits beneath the Station's drainpipe to collect the leaf mulch and debris that litter the old, faulty spout and keep the cement free from a filthy pile of wet dirt.

"... Oh, my dear, that was most  _certainly_  not a good move..."

Pulling open her car door with a wrinkle of her nose, she guns the engine angrily, her heart racing with rage as she reverses out of the space and heads off in the direction of the blonde's crummy apartment.


	3. Chapter 03

When she pulls into the small parking alley around the back of the blonde's apartment building, Regina is surprised to spot Emma sitting out on the steps that lead up to fire escape. The younger woman pays her arrival no mind, simply continuing to contemplate the apple she holds in her hand with that hateful lazy boredom the brunette has come to associate with their new arrival. Switching off the car's engine, the Mayor scolds herself as she remains mesmerized where she sits as the blonde bites into the apple, revealing white flesh that contrasts shockingly with the ruby shine to its skin. Blinking rapidly as Emma deftly licks a trickle of escaped juice from her wrist, Regina growls, opening the door to her car and marching out onto the sidewalk.

"Miss Swan!"

"... Madame Mayor?"

Green eyes flicker up at her disinterestedly, and the brunette feels at a momentary loss of what to do as she realizes her arrival comes as no surprise to the younger woman. Stalking closer until she stands at the foot of the steps with her hands rested on her hips ,she glares up at the blonde irritably; her eyes flashing with malice.

"What in the  _hell_  do you think you're playing at!?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know damn  _well_  what I mean! My car! Look at it!"

"Oh that... Bummer."

"Miss Swan, you sort out this mess, and you sort it out  _now!_ "

The Mayor continues to scowl darkly as the younger woman raises an eyebrow and offers her a peculiar glance, a small smile touching her lips.

"As you wish..."

And with that she hops down from her perch on the top step, tossing the remains of her apple dismissively into the bushes and making her way swiftly down the stairs until she stands face to face with the brunette. Regina maintains a strict poker face, inwardly astounded at just how  _easy_  it has been to get the blonde to stand down and adhere to her wishes.

"What the hell were you thinking in the _first_  place?!"

She grumbles irritably, uncharacteristically unnerved at the way the younger woman maintains cool eye contact as she continues to smirk smugly.

"Guess I just didn't much like what was being implied back at the Station."

"So you upended a bucket of  _filth_  onto my car?! Honestly, dear, that speaks more of childishness and guilt than it does payback."

"I have no reason to feel guilty."

"Oh please, you and Graham-"

"- Me and Graham  _nothing_. I have no interest in the Sheriff. At least, not the kind _you're_  implying."

"You expect me to believe you?"

"I don't  _expect_  you to do anything. I'm just _telling_  you... It's nothing."

"You're telling me you harbor no attraction to anyone in this town... That you're completely innocent of-"

"-No. That's not what I said."

"What do you mean?"

"I said I have no interest in Graham."

"But you-"

"- Do you want me to sort your car out or not? It's getting cold and I want a drink."

"...Well...Then quit bickering and get to it, Miss Swan."

The blonde opens her mouth to protest, but decides it isn't worth it, choosing instead to shrug and tell the Mayor to sit tight while she finds herself a sponge and some soapy water. Regina sniffs and glares after her, searching for a suitable place to rest as she refuses to perch on the dirty steps like the younger woman.

Like a tramp.

Pursing her lips, she moves back to her car and ducks into its warmth and cover. She is already less than thrilled at the thought of anyone seeing her waiting outside the schoolteacher's apartment building.

"Of course it would be _her_  that took in the woman... Of _course_  it would."

She is pulled from her thoughts as she spots Emma trotting back into view with a large red bucket and a yellow sponge, her long hair whipping about in the wind curiously. The  _reason_  why she should find such a thing curious dawns on the brunette slowly and she frowns. Rather than donning an extra layer against the March chill, the blonde has shed her jacket back in the apartment; the t-shirt she now wears flimsy and white, just grazing the waistband of her jeans and capped high up her slender arms in a way that makes the Mayor shiver just looking at her.

_Didn't want to get dirt on that hideous jacket?... It would have been no crime to ruin that thing, dear, I promise you._

She watches as the younger woman carries the bucket and sponge down to her car, her careless movements causing some of the water that sloshes in the red pail to spatter up and wet her top; the fabric sticking soggily to the firm flesh at her stomach causing the brunette to look away swiftly.

Placing the bucket down beside the Benz, Emma peeks up to find Regina pointedly ignoring her. Rolling her eyes, she swiftly dumps the majority of the warm soapy water over the bonnet in one swift flick of her wrists, causing the brunette to glance up in surprise. Paying her no obvious attention, Emma bends down to retrieve the sponge, inwardly thankful for the ridiculously extravagant hood of the Mayor's car.

It means she doesn't have to worry about her acting skills.

Wiping at the filth that coats expensive black paint, she works her way forward until she is forced to lean over to reach the areas closer to the windshield, subsequently pressing herself flush against the car, and allowing chilled water to soak her t-shirt instantly; the thin cotton sticking to her frame in a way that is uncomfortably clammy, but beautifully revealing.

_Game on, Regina._

She wonders if it occurs to the Mayor that she could have just as easily moved round to the side of the bonnet to reach the area she now stretches herself out for.

It does.

The brunette clings firmly to her composure, observing the blonde expressionlessly as the latter struggles to access the areas high up on the bonnet. She wonders if she should suggest the younger woman simply move round to the side of the car rather than continue her idiotic endeavor, but is loathe to lose such a pleasing view.

_Why are you watching her? What are you thinking?!_

She snaps at her inner voice to be quiet, knowing full well that she should do all in her power to discard the warm excitement mounting low in her stomach as she continues to watch Emma go about her business. She thinks back to the photograph of the younger woman that had sparked such intense reactions in the first place and finds herself fantasizing in vain over the skimpy little number the blonde had worn when performing this same task all those years ago.

She finds she doesn't much mind Emma's current attire either when the younger woman stretches back up to wring out her sponge.

Wet white cotton plasters itself sensationally against lean muscle, the thin material turned ever so slightly translucent when damp.

Regina catches her bottom lip with her teeth as she realizes the blonde doesn't wear a bra.

_Are you serious...?_

Dark eyes continue to ravage sodden cotton, flickering up to study the younger woman's face as she goes back to her cleaning; a small smattering of foamy bubbles gracing her pale cheek.

The fact that Emma has negated to wear a bra given the fact she had seemed entirely  _unsurprised_  she should be requested to perform a task in which she'd most likely get wet plays maddeningly on the brunette's mind. Her own breasts feel firm and tight with unwanted excitement, joined mutinously by a growing ache between her legs. She finds it hard to believe the younger woman could be completely  _oblivious_  to just how much she has on display, despite her firm belief that Emma resides in a perpetual state of ignorance.

 _Such thoughts are dangerous... If you truly believe she bares herself like this consciously, then what would_ that _mean?... What would-_

She loses her train of thought as green eyes flicker suddenly up to find her own and the blonde offers her a small smile that is entirely free from innocence. Frowning as Emma moves her attention back down to the glistening bonnet, Regina runs her finger slowly over her lips before reaching for the door-handle and stepping from the car.

The blonde doesn't react to the fact the Mayor moves to stand behind her, simply carrying on with her methodical rubbing of the sponge. The brunette places her hands on her hips, her eyes roaming down to the younger woman's jean-clad ass which sticks out pertly as she leans over the car in a way that just seems a little too deliberate. Dark eyes flashing dangerously, Regina's tone is low when she speaks.

"What are you doing?"

"Washing your car, what does it _look_  like I'm doing?"

Emma's answer is quiet, her tone easily mistakable for simple boredom but for a slight hitch in her breath. Throwing caution to the wind, the brunette moves to stand beside her, tracing a finger slowly through the icy bubbles that coat her car.

"That's not really what I  _meant_ , dear."

"What  _did_  you mean, then?"

"... You  _know_  what I mean, Miss Swan."

She almost inflects the end of her statement to form a question, but when the blonde rises slowly back up and faces her, she discards the last of her doubtful hesitation. Allowing her gaze to fall slowly to sodden cotton and pert breasts, Regina shakes her head slowly before returning her attention to glittering green eyes.

"Hardly the most appropriate outfit for the task at hand?"

"Oh, I think it's the perfect outfit for the task at hand..."

The Mayor raises an eyebrow, breath catching as the blonde's lips form a slow smile before the younger woman turns her attention dismissively back to the car.

"Is that so?"

"You tell me-  _ah!_ "

The brunette moves with sudden violence, grabbing hold of the younger woman's wrist and dragging her roughly into the narrow alley beside the building's storage space where they find themselves covered from view. Slamming the blonde ruthlessly against the wall, she pins her in place with her own slender frame, her breath coming out in short, harsh pants as her eyes flicker about her companion's pale face feverishly.

"What are you playing at?"

"I think you know."

"You think I know why you're displaying yourself like this? Like a cheap little harlot in the-"

"-Don't pretend you don't like the view."

" _Like_  it?! Miss Swan, why on earth would you-"

"-You liked the idea well enough when you saw that picture... At least... you  _sounded_  as though you did. Tell me, what-"

The blonde's low drawl is cut off as scarlet lips crash violently against her own; the Mayor having deliberated angrily between slapping her and silencing her as sordid fury flooded through her veins. The brunette demands access aggressively, her fingers trailing wet fabric, before she pulls away and barks at the younger woman authoritatively.

"Take it off or you'll freeze. And I have no wish to get myself dirty."

"Oh?..."

The Mayor glowers as the younger woman strips off her shirt without a fuss; unsettled by the blonde's uncharacteristically coy behavior as it loses her the advantage she usually holds with her eloquence. She slams Emma back against the wall ruthlessly in reprimand, hands exploring pale, bare flesh dappled with goosebumps. Finding the younger woman's lips once more, she smirks as the blonde pushes her hips forward to press against her own.

Without breaking her aggressive kiss, Regina drags her nails roughly down the pale woman's stomach and wrestles with the button to her levi's, before snaking a hand swiftly inside tight denim to find tellingly wet lace.

The blonde makes a small noise of surprise- swallowed by hungry lips- as slender fingers slip deliciously into her wetness and play with her mercilessly. Squirming a little to allow better access, her breathing quickens as the Mayor's ministrations are savage and intense.

"Shit..."

Regina chuckles wickedly at the curious mix of pleasure and pain that chokes Emma's voice, and she finds the blonde's throat as the latter throws her head back against the wall. She tastes the pale flesh on display eagerly, growling appreciativly as the younger woman begins to tremble beneath her. Speeding up the divine torture of her fingers, she catches the blonde's choked cry with scarlet lips as the pale woman comes blissfully undone.

Stepping back gracefully, she studies the blonde with glittering eyes as Emma leans against the wall trying to get her breath back. Letting her attention linger appreciatively on flushed breasts and taut muscle, she plucks up the discarded scrap of the blonde's t-shirt and shoves it into weak hands dismissively.

"I hope you've learnt your lesson, Miss Swan. Don't play games you have no chance of winning."


	4. Chapter 04

_"I hope you've learnt your lesson, Miss Swan. Don't play games you have no chance of winning."_

Sighing as she gives up all pretence of trying to sleep, Emma rolls onto her back and studies the ceiling; green eyes diluted to just a sliver of emerald around bottomless black pools due to the darkness. Her lips form a small smirk as she plays back Regina's parting words yet again, and finds them no less amusing with time.

If the brunette's ministrations had been her forfeit as the _loser_  of their curious power play, she has no idea what in the hell would constitute a win.

Personally, she feels rather victorious indeed...

Sharp teeth flash as her smirk widens into a wicked smile, and she images she must look quite mad grinning away in the darkness, but such self-evaluation only serves to amuse her all the more.

"I've learnt  _a_  lesson... But have you,  _dear_?"

She murmurs; lowering her voice as she utters the Mayor's preferred form of address- a term to patronise rather than one of endearment when it comes to herself- to mimic the darker woman's sultry purr.

Yes, she has learnt a lesson; she has learnt that however caustic their relationship may be, Regina's contempt is not for what she sees.

A good thing really, as the feeling is entirely mutual.

It had shocked her, for sure, when she had made her surprising discovery back in the Mayor's office- soft moans escaping from behind heavy wood- but it had quickly become a _positive_  sort of shock, and she can't help but mourn the fact that, while delicious to the ear, she had been denied the sight of the darker woman using those expertly dexterous fingers on her own supple flesh.

"I learnt  _my_  lesson... But it's about time you yourself learnt that it is a dangerous game to continue to underestimate me, Madame Mayor."

She drawls out her own chosen title, and, much like the purr of the brunette when she addresses the blonde, Emma's own tone carries a husky quality that she can't help but wonder if anyone else has picked up on at all.

She thinks back to the day Henry had been so understandbly upset that he had run off to hide in the mines. She had been furious with the darker woman; having felt incredibly guilty due to the kid's misunderstanding, and not liking the way she had been played into fucking up one little bit. She had been anxious- scared, yeah, ok, scared- irritated, and angry, but not so blinded by the distracting nature of the situation so as not to feel a curious spark as the Mayor had  _persisted_  to stand uncommonly close to her. Soft breath playing over her face.

Not that that had been the _last_  time she'd deemed it fit to negate to acknowledge all understanding of personal space, either.

Not by a long shot.

Ordinarily, such an encroachment on her boundaries would serve to set the younger woman's hackles up- not one to find physical closeness all that enjoyable at the best of times- but, despite a vague irritation towards the matter, she has found herself willing to make an exception. The brunette is tantalising, seductive, electric, and while she finds her to be a royal pain in the ass, such things make Regina's presence just a touch more tolerable.

"But you  _do_  need to be taught a lesson..."

She sighs, lips still lilting at the corners in a small grin as she runs a hand through her hair; pushing it away from her crown so that is spills about her in a halo of tousled curls that seem to glow in the pale moonlight that filters through her window. The thought of offering up her own dose of medicine so to speak has her sex thrumming in a way that is both demanding yet entirely pleasant, and she lowers a pale hand idly beneath the waistband of her pyjama shorts as her mind begins to formulate her own sweet plan of revenge.

* * *

When the blonde comes for her, the Mayor has just finished lunch.

Frowning at the soft knock at her office door- not expecting company, and having no meetings scheduled- she primps her hair and rolls her eyes. There are two perceivable people who might be standing on the other side of dark wood, and she isn't entirely sure how she feels about a visit from either the Sheriff  _or_  the irksome Swan woman.

If it's Graham, he might ask her why she had called off their arrangement for the previous evening.

If it's Emma... Well, she doesn't exactly know.

Sitting back in her chair and raising her voice authoritatively, she bids her visitor entry.

"Come."

A hollow click, and the low hiss of the door scraping gently against the plush rug that lines the entrance to her office, and she finds herself accosted with blonde curls and weather-pinkened cheeks. Raising an eyebrow, she keeps her expression neutral, waiting for Emma to explain her purpose for interrupting what  _could_  well have been important business.

"Can I help you, Miss Swan?"

Her tone is light- almost bored- but her eyes search the younger woman's face with intrigue; surprised that Emma seems entirely unflustered in her presence despite their sordid tryst not eighteen hours ago.

_Surprised... And a little disappointed._

As it is, it is she herself that feels a slight pang of unease; the blonde regarding her with a peculiar expression she can't quite read, and she frowns as her sex clenches hungrily with the younger woman's arrival; praying that this is not going to be a reoccurring reaction.

"Reimbursement."

"...I'm sorry?"

"The clamp you put on my car... It scratched the paint and put a dent in the hubcap... I want reimbursement."

"My dear, it is not _I_  that put the clamp on your wheel. If you have a bone to pick about the matter, I suggest you go and pay the Sheriff a visit as it will have been he who fixed it."

"...At  _your_  request."

"... Allegations are dangerous, Miss Swan, and that is neither here nor there, you-"

But she trails off as the younger woman stalks slowly towards the desk. She keeps her expression purposefully hard; demanding a caution from the blonde that she is rudely denied.

_Don't play with fire, dear, or you will continue to get burnt._

But she can't help feel that  _she_  is the one suffering, as pretty green eyes demand her gaze cooly, and Emma stops at the heavy oak desk that resides between them; her hipbones grazing the lip of the wood.

"I what...?"

"You... You have no business being here. I have work to do. If you have a complaint, I'm sure Graham will be happy-  _more_  than happy- to see to you."

She leaves her true meaning unsaid, but her tone drips with disdain and offers no doubt as to the insinuation behind her words, yet _still_  the blonde doesn't falter.

Breath catching as the younger woman places her palms on the desk and leans threateningly- predatorily- forwards, Regina forbids herself from reacting as Emma looms so impossibly close that their noses are only separated by a couple of inches.

"I don't want the  _Sheriff_  to see to me..."

"Well, Miss Swan, th-that is up to you, but if you please, I could  _not_  have made myself more clear, I-"

"-I want  _you_  to make it up to me."

"... Excuse me?"

"... You heard me..."


	5. Chapter 05

_"I want_ you _to make it up to me."_

_"...Excuse me?"_

_"...You heard me..."_

Regina opens her mouth in the hopes that some form of retort will come tumbling from her lips, but as it is, she simply lets out a low, audible breath as her eyes flicker uneasily in silent combat with the blonde's own; entirely unnerved by the way Emma dominates what is by all accounts a most peculiar situation.

Closing her mouth primly and leaning back in her chair, she creates a little more space between them, but it does nothing to thwart the intensity that thrums like an electric charge within the room. She is sure she can almost  _taste_  the younger woman in the very air she breathes, and she is loathe to admit, it is a flavor for which she could well grow partial.

"What are you doing?"

That question again, but, just as she had known that the irksome woman had been up to no good in the parking lot outside Mary Margaret's, she recognises the slow smile that Emma offers in the here and now to hold nothing but deviance.

And it excites her.

_Excites?... But I have already served her swift justice... Taught her a lesson... She taunted and teased so I played right back... I won... Surely?_

_But why then... Why then if this is just a_  game _, does she effect me so?_

A good question, and one she begrudges irritably of her psyche. She had been sure it would be a while coming before the blonde recovered from their activities the previous day; sure that she had left Emma belittled and confused by her sudden rising to the bait and taking it just that little bit further...

Now though... Well, now her head aches and the lace between her thighs is dampening fast.

"What am  _I_  doing?  _Really_ , Regina? What am _I_  doing?"

"You don't need to repeat yourself; I am neither deaf nor lacking in intelligence."

A light chuckle at this, and she frowns as pretty white teeth flash enticingly, before the blonde leans over the desk so far that it must be somewhat uncomfortable and addresses her, once more nose to nose.

"Then why are you asking such stupid questions?"

And with that, pale lips crash against scarlet; the Mayor letting out a small noise of protest, even as her hands defy her and launch themselves eagerly into tangled tresses.

She stands in response to a small tug to the lapels of her shirt from the blonde, and edges around the desk so that she may deepen their kiss with greater ease; _not_  because Emma clearly wishes for her to do so, but because she  _herself_  feels the desire.

She clings on to the  _importance_  of this fact as her eyes slip closed and a pale finger traces a curious line from the hollow between her clavicles, across her collarbone to the right, before travelling back across to the left; the younger woman's nail skimming perfect flesh hard enough to elicit a sordid shudder, but not cruel enough to leave a mark.

For, when it comes to the darker woman's punishment; Emma has other ideas.

Purring appreciatively against the blonde's flesh as she dips her head to taste the pale expanse of her throat, the Mayor is too intoxicated by the moment to ponder on whether or not it is wise to allow slim fingers to continue their journey downwards, as, one by one, the delicate buttons of her shirt are fiddled loose.

A thumb brushing roughly over soft satin has her taking in a sharp breath and deeming her leniency to be very wise indeed.

"Take it off..."

A low demand whispered raspily into her ear, but she is not so far gone that she is about to start taking orders from Emma Swan. Leaning back, she regards the younger woman darkly, noticing that the latter's impish Cheshire grin still remains.

"An eye for an eye, dear."

She demands sultrily, so used to the blonde's ways that she readies herself for argument reflexively, but the younger woman simply shrugs and rids herself of both her sweater and the t-shirt she wears beneath in one swift move; letting the garments fall carelessly to the floor.

"Nothing you haven't seen before."

Emma states casually, green eyes continuing to flicker over the delectable expanse of the Mayor's own flesh in a way that has the darker woman's cheeks flushing not with embarrassment, but excitement.

Regina keeps to herself that- while true- this fact bares little significance, as the sight she takes in is made no less enjoyable through repetition. On the contrary, to be allowed the time to drink in pale flesh in the warm comfort of her office is most pleasurable, and- while she imagines such symbolism is lost on the blonde- she can't help but find a cynical appreciation for the stark contrast between the younger woman's simple black bra and her own intricate white satin and lace.

"Then show me more."

She counteracts in the same, low tone Emma uses; dark eyes glittering with the challenge.

In all fairness, it should be she herself to make the next move if they are to be taking turns, but she has no interest in whether or not this is fair. What she  _does_  have an interest in is the most peculiar fact that the younger woman proceeds to do as she is told; negating to bicker and argue in that ever vexing way of hers. Such out of character compliance would ordinarily arouse suspicion, but the brunette currently finds herself rather preoccupied by a vast expanse of bare flesh as the blonde shucks her jeans; managing to make the removal of her heavy boots with the rough denim still suspended halfway down slim legs obscurely graceful.

"Tit for tat."

The younger woman quips, with a little too much sass for one stood in their underwear and mismatched socks in Regina's opinion. Her wording garners a smirk however, and the darker woman flicks her hair back primly; her smile widening as the younger woman moves forward to stand flush against her, pale lips brushing against scarlet as Emma hisses

"Or are you going to let me win so easily...?"

Nipping cruelly at the blonde's kiss-swollen bottom lip in rebuttal, the Mayor growls, slipping a slender arm expertly behind her back, before her intention is intercepted by the younger woman's own wandering fingers.

"Do you mind?!"

She admonishes with breathless irritability as the blonde snaps open the clasp of her bra before proceeding to tug at the item with about as much finesse as one might expect of a sex-starved adolescent. Warm hands cup her newly exposed flesh in response, and she purrs appreciatively against the hard ridge of the younger woman's collarbone; grazing that delicate groove with her teeth as the latter lets out a flippant

"No."

Despite a rolling of her dark eyes at Emma's predictably contrary response, it is as though the skin-on-skin contact between the two of them ignites some sort of fire, and suddenly everything begins to move much faster and more frantically.

Perfectly manicured fingers free the younger woman of her own black bonds, as the blonde keeps one hand pressed and fluttering playfully over the Mayor's rapidly beating heart, and the other entangled within silken tresses to keep the darker woman's mouth pressed heatedly against her own.

A pale thumb makes one final swipe over a deliciously taut nipple, before Emma slips her hand down soft skin to release the catch on the brunette's black pencil skirt.

Scowling as the younger woman proceeds to yank at her clothing once more, Regina takes over; batting the blonde's hands irritably away as she slips heavy cotton gracefully down long, slender legs, never once breaking contact as she tastes the other woman hungrily.

With the Mayor magnificently on display- save for the expensively cut french lace that covers her sex- Emma steers them in the direction of the sofa; inwardly a little nervous as she spies beneath hooded lids that the darker woman still wears her sinfully seductive heels, and taking curiously cautious steps to avoid any painful accidents to her bare feet.

Pushing Regina down onto the low sofa, the blonde straddles her easily; any complaint the brunette might have towards being forced into such a submissive position overruled as the younger woman deepens the assault with her tongue and cups damp lace with playful fingers.

The Mayor shudders as the blonde's own need presses against her hotly; slim fingers caught between them.

"Up."

Emma growls, lifting her own hips slightly to allow the brunette to lift hers so as to free the wet, white fabric that is all that remains of the darker woman's impeccable ensemble.

"Just because you're half nude, doesn't mean you should forgo what few manners you have. A 'please' wouldn't go amiss here and ther- _ah!_ "

Dark eyes shoot open as the blonde hooks her finger slyly through the crotch of the Mayor's underwear and yanks it viciously upwards; the material narrowing delectably to reveal slick, wet flesh. Emma smirks cruelly, looking thoroughly pleased with herself.

"Please..."

She mocks innocently; her lips brushing wetly against the brunette's as she releases her painful hold on white lace.

Regina complies, lifting her hips and letting out a low moan as the younger woman trails her tongue down her torso as she moves to dispose of the unwanted garment. Nipping very lightly at the delicate web of flesh above the darker woman's navel, Emma chuckles lightly as the Mayor's fingers entwine themselves within her heavy curls and attempt to force her attention lower.

"Uh uh."

The brunette makes a small noise of frustration; her blood thrumming maddeningly and the complete debauchery of the situation causing her sex to ache hungrily as her inner muscles flutter on the delicate brink of orgasm.

She is careful not to let such desperation show in her expression, and when Emma travels back up to find her lips- long hair ghosting tantalisingly over sunkissed flesh- she simply pulls the younger woman down towards her to begin the battle for dominance once more with her tongue.

Soft, black cotton presses down with an incredible heat over the Mayor's most sensitive secrets, and as their kiss continues to grow ever more passionate- low noises of arousal escaping from both women to become lost and entwined and impossible to trace back to any one set of swollen lips- the brunette shudders every now and then as the younger woman rocks her hips as she works; creating delicious friction.

"Your turn..."

Huskily low, a red lacquered fingernail trailing the waistband of the blonde's bikini briefs hard enough to leave a faint, reddening line in its wake.

Lifting her hips once more, Emma plucks away scant fabric; lifting her knees one at a time to free the swatch of cotton and tossing it carelessly aside.

Regina makes a low noise- her tongue flickering into view to wet a deliciously plump bottom lip- as she waits for the blonde to lower herself back down and sate her need.

Well-plucked brows furrow when Emma proceeds to do no such thing.

"Well?"

The younger woman chuckles in a way that sends sharp jolts of pleasure rippling straight to the Mayor's core; amused at the ever demanding note to the brunette's sultry purr.

_Don't play games you can't win._

Offering a curious little shrug- eyes wide and shamelessly innocent- Emma leans forwards, supporting her weight carefully on her forearms as her lips brush Regina's; her stomach pulled taut to engage her core and a smooth line of definition casting shadow down her slender arms as she keeps herself hovering teasingly above the brunette.

"What are you doing?"

Audibly irritated now, and the Mayor finds the firm flesh of the blonde's backside and attempts to pull her down, but the younger woman is strong, and though her arms shake ever so slightly, she keeps her position with a salacious grin.

_It's tough when someone else makes the rules, huh, Madame Mayor?_

"Miss Swan!"

The darker woman huffs; despising the uncharacteristic whiny tone to her voice, and the desperation so evident in her traitorous body.

Emma laughs quietly; picking up on the exact same qualities to the Mayor's current behaviour.

"Hmm?"

She muses- feigning ignorance- brushing her lips against the sharp line of the brunette's jaw as the latter attempts to thrust her own hips up towards the pale woman's promised heat.

The blonde makes a low, scolding noise; bracing herself precariously on just one arm- visibly shaking now due to the amount of time spent with her weight punishing her limbs in her awkward, yet delicious position- and scuttles the fingers of her free hand up a slim thigh and over the darker woman's mound.

She blows lightly across the Mayor's breasts.

"Emma, please!"

The brunette growls, dimly aware of the fact that she has given in to the blonde; not just resorting to pleading with her, but calling her by her first name as though beseeching a friend for compliance.

Smirking victoriously, the blonde crashes her lips against the Mayor's as she gives in to gravity and lowers herself heavily down onto the brunette; straddling her once more, but without the irritation of any barrier.

Regina moans into chaotically tousled tresses; her nails creating small, crescent grooves in the pale flesh of the younger woman's shoulder blades as she encourages the latter to move against her roughly.

Humming in her own pleasured ecstasy, Emma moves her hand down to her target once more, lifting her hips ever so slightly to allow her to slip slender fingers easily between the darker woman's slick folds before grinding down once more; moving with her entire body as the Mayor begins to groan tellingly into her hair.

"I hope you've learnt your lesson..."

Curling her fingers to find the sensitive patch of flesh that causes the brunette to tremble beneath her, the blonde moves her thumb over the erect bundle of nerves an inch or so north and grins at the beautifully hoarse cry against her throat; Regina's fingers digging cruelly into sparsely freckled shoulders as she comes violently undone.

"Oh my god..."

Laughing huskily against the darker woman's clavicle, Emma offers one final sweep of her tongue, before sitting up and climbing easily off the Mayor who lies trying to regain her breath.

Not to mention her composure.

"Wh-what... Where do you think you're going?"

"Home."

"But we... I... You..."

"Payback's a bitch, huh?"


End file.
